


Marriage for Beginners

by MachineQueen



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen/pseuds/MachineQueen
Summary: Ingrid has spent her entire life waiting to marry Glenn. She fears she still isn't ready.Glenn lives AU
Relationships: Glenn Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Marriage for Beginners

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have a short about insecure!Ingrid.
> 
> In this AU Glenn lives and attends Garreg Mach as Dimitri's retainer.
> 
> Written for [@IngridRarePairWeek Day 7: AU](https://twitter.com/ingridrarepair)
> 
> [@MachineQueen4](https://twitter.com/MachineQueen4)

“Oh, Ingrid, it’s soooo shiny!”

Mercedes seized Ingrid’s hand for a proper look at her engagement ring. 

The ring was made of fine silver. Delicate filigree pegasus wings flared out around a jewel the same shade of turquoise as Ingrid’s eyes. Mercedes gave her an awestruck look and Ingrid couldn’t help feeling pleased. 

“Was the proposal very romantic?”

Ingrid’s smile faltered. “It’s an arranged marriage. There wasn’t a proposal, not like in books. Our families decided we would be married shortly after I was born.”

Mercedes starstruck look turned to one of abject disappointment. “Oh. Of course. Silly me. Has it been very difficult?” 

“Not at all. The Fraldarius family have been very welcoming.”

Mercedes looked doubtful. Not surprising, considering yesterday Felix had berated her for six minutes over sloppy sword form. 

“Glenn has already been a knight for five years.”

“Oh. No wonder he seems so-” Mercedes paused. She couldn’t seem to find the right word. Ingrid grew impatient and filled in the blanks herself.

“He’s everything a knight should be. Brave. Loyal. Strong. I couldn’t ask for a better husband.”

“It is good you are happy. I know my adoptive father wants marriage for me too, but I simply can’t imagine it. Getting to know someone, falling in love...can such a thing really be predetermined?”

The words were like a jab to the stomach. Ingrid had wondered the same thing, for years and years but-

“We’re happy with the arrangement.”

“That’s wonderful! I’m sure it’ll be a lovely wedding.”

Their wedding date was already set. After Ingrid’s training at Garreg Mach was complete, she would be walking down the aisle. The thought made her stomach wriggle. A whole life spent knowing she would be Glenn’s wife and she still wasn’t sure she was ready. 

‘Wife’ made her think of her late mother, bustling around the kitchen with homemade scones and sewing patches in her brother’s shirt. Or the late Lady Fraldarius. Lord Rodrigue rarely mentioned her but when he did it was in reverent tones. As if ‘wife’ was some godly being rather than a title applicable to half the world’s women.

Wives certainly didn’t attend Garreg Mach Officers’ Academy. Her father had tried to send her to the Fhirdiad Academy For Young Ladies instead. The argument had raged on until she’d done what she’s always sworn not to and played The Glenn Card. 

“Count Galetea,” Glenn said, through gritted teeth. “With the greatest of respect, sir, I am not concerned with Ingrid’s ability to sew or make conversation about the weather.”

Ingrid was twelve when she knew deep, deep in her bones, she wanted to be a knight. The idea solidified at Glenn’s knighting ceremony. The hush as he said his vows. The touch of the king’s blade to bent shoulders. And the way he looked when he rose, blue cape swishing. He wasn’t just Glenn, her fiance and partner in crime. He was a man and he was beautiful and somehow he was Ingrid’s.

And Ingrid loved him and envied him and wanted to be him, all at the same time. 

“I’ll make sure you get an invitation to the wedding,” she told Mercedes. 

(If the wedding ever happened. If Glenn didn’t change his mind.)

***

The night patrols clanked past Ingrid’s window for the third time. She still couldn’t sleep. She was stuck feeling like she was running out of time. The lance tournament should have worn her out. But all she could think about was how she might have to give it all up.

Glenn might say he wanted her to follow her dream, but did he really mean it? Did he secretly long for a wife who’d stay home and cook?

It was no good. She needed air. It was too clammy and hot in her bed. She slipped a cloak over her nightwear and ventured out.

The monastery was strangely hushed. The silence was only broken up by the sound of owls hooting and the occasional hiss from a cat or bark from a dog.

Ingrid leaned against the wall and tried to even out her breathing. Staying up all night worrying wouldn’t solve any of this. She needed to talk with Glenn. Preferably without Prince Dimitri hanging around. 

A shadow moved in the darkness. 

Ingrid jolted into action, immediately throwing a punch. If someone thought they could sneak up on her, they were sorely mistaken. Her aim was true - a body thunked to the ground.

“Hey! Stop!”

Ingrid froze. She recognised that voice. “D-Dorothea?”

A sharp flame _fwoomed_ out from Dorothea’s hand, so Ingrid could see her startled face. “Ingrid? Trying to jump my bones?”

Ingrid flushed. “Don’t be so uncouth! I thought you were attacking me!” She offered Dorothea a hand up. 

“Rest assured, your maidenly virtue is safe for another day. I wouldn’t want to start trouble with _your_ honey.”

Ingrid took a proper look at Dorothea. Her lipstick was smudged all over her chin, her hair was mussed and she had two buttons undone on her shirt. 

“What about _your_ maidenly virtue?”

Dorothea raised a single eyebrow, a feat Ingrid had tried and failed to copy. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to. And don’t you dare judge me, Little Miss Betrothed-at-Birth. You’re lucky you don’t have to worry about any of this stuff.”

“Are you seeing him again?”

“Nope. He’s only got a poxy little cottage in the mountains. I can do better.” She swished her hair. “Shame, because he was a phenomenal kisser. And actually the meal was quite romantic. He lit the candles himself, bless him.”

“A candlelit meal sounds nice…”

“It’s ok. Pretty cliche for a first date but it works for me. Does your honey do that kind of thing for you?”

Ingrid shook her head. “We go out for picnics sometimes, so we can give the horses a run.”

“How...rustic.” Dorothea gave her a pitying look. It put Ingrid on the defensive.

“Glenn can be romantic,” she said. Which was a stupid thing to say, because it was a complete lie. Glenn was a pragmatist. And that was fine. Most of the time. 

Why did Ingrid care so much about what Dorothea thought, anyway?

“I’m sure. I bet he writes you poetry, just like all that Fhaerghus courtly romantic drivel. Can I read it?”

Glenn’s letters were usually barebones. He liked to write about two things: his horse and Dimitri. And sometimes he said he missed her and he’d see her soon.

“He writes me letters and they’re _private_.”

“Sorry I asked!” Dorothea raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m glad he’s doing something though. I never see the two of you together.”

“Glenn has his duties. He’s a real knight already so he doesn’t have a lot of time.”

“That must be hard for you. A girl needs a bit of romance, don’t you think?”

Ingrid couldn’t stop thinking about it after she bid Dorothea good night. Glenn had never really done any of the typical romance stuff. No special meals, moonlit strolls or lovelorn poetry for Ingrid.

But wait. She’d never done anything for him, either. She’d never dressed up and served him a meal or written a love letter. Their lack of romance wasn’t all Glenn’s responsibility.

That meant she could do something about it. 

The following morning, Ingrid slipped a note under his door.

_Meet me for dinner tonight at 7pm? Ingrid xx_

***

Ingrid pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. What a fool she was. Glenn would be here any second but the food she’d cooked was in no edible state. No matter what she did to it, the meat remained burned on the outside and raw in the middle. She’d dumped it all in a pan hoping to boil it into submission. The whole kitchen smelt burnt. Ingrid’s eyes were red from chopping onions and her hair stuck to her forehead. 

She considered making a run for it. The chefs were going to murder her when they saw the black crust on the pan.

“Ingrid? You cooked for me?”

Glenn, dressed casually in just a shirt and trousers. Prince Dimitri was nowhere to be seen. It was odd to see Glenn without him. Fond as she was of Dimitri, having a permanent tagalong dulled the romantic mood.

Not that she’d managed to set much of one anyway, with her miserable meal and the feeble smile on her face.

“I don’t know if I’d call it cooking exactly…”

Glenn picked up her wooden spoon and poked at the pot. It hissed in protest. He lifted the spoon and took a long sniff.

“Forget it. I’ll throw it away,” said Ingrid.

Glenn tutted. _Licked_ the spoon. He did not flinch. “Get me salt. Pepper flakes. And honey.”

“It’s not worth saving. Some wife I’ll be. I can’t even cook a simple meal.”

“I don’t need a wife to cook me meals.” Ingrid flinched. Glenn saw her face.“You have other qualities which are far more important.”

“Like what?”

“My horse likes you. So does my father. And you’re always looking out for the brat. You’re kind. Don’t ever lose that.”

“That’s because...I want to be part of your family.”

“Ingrid. You already are.”

“But-”

“But nothing. You’re the wife I want. End of.”

Ingrid didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t poetry. It wasn’t a soliloquy on the beauty of her eyes or a poem on the fall of her hair. It was so much better because it was real and because it was Glenn.

She replayed the words in her mind. _You’re the wife I want. End of._

“Salt,” Glenn prompted and Ingrid jerked back into life. She pulled pots out of the cupboard and lined up ingredients. 

“Glenn. The thing is, I don’t know how to be a wife.”

He added a pinch of salt. “I don’t know how to be a husband.”

“Do you ever wonder if we’re supposed to turn into our parents?”

Glenn frowned. Added pepper. “I don’t think you’re much like your father.”

“I was thinking of my mother. She was always so pious, so dutiful.”

“Ingrid, I know you want to become a knight. I don’t plan on standing in the way. I’m not going to tell you to get back in the kitchen and start having babies.”

“But that’s how it’s meant to go, isn’t it? Love, then marriage, then the baby carriage?”

“Screw that. We’ll do what’s right for us.”

“What about your father? I bet he wants grandchildren.”

“He’ll have to wait.”

“What if-” Ingrid thought of Dorothea. “-you could marry a girl who just wanted to be a wife?”

Glenn stopped stirring the pot. “What.”

“Some girls just want to get married. Maybe you’d prefer a girl like that?”

“Did you not hear the part where I said you’re the only wife I want? A girl like that would bore me to tears.”

“I did but-”

Glenn stayed very still. He didn’t look at her. “Do you want to marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want to marry you too. So let’s get married. You’ll have your knighting ceremony. And we’ll serve Prince Dimitri together, like we dreamed of as children. Then, one day when we’re ready to settle down, we’ll have a kid. And maybe they’ll have a crest and maybe they won’t. We’ll have fulfilled our obligation either way.”

“Our obligation. Right.”

“The kid is the obligation part. Not marrying you. I would want to marry you whatever. Because I love you. Got it?”

Glenn went back to stirring the pot. Except Ingrid didn’t care about the food anymore. She grasped Glenn by the wrist and pulled until he was facing her. The spoon dropped from his hand, she raised herself up on her toes to reach him, tangled her hands in his hair -

They only stopped kissing when the pot boiled over.


End file.
